


Our Greatest Glory

by loosingletters



Series: Lost Tales of Gotham [9]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Mythology, Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, Batfamily-centric (DCU), Court of Owls, Dark Batfamily (DCU), Domestic Fluff, Family Bonding, Fluff, Gen, Kid Fic, One Shot Collection, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:40:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 10,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23243401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loosingletters/pseuds/loosingletters
Summary: Collection of the Batfam prompts I receive on tumblr.
Relationships: Barbara Gordon & Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne & His Children, Stephanie Brown & Harper Row & Duke Thomas & Damian Wayne, Stephanie Brown & Jason Todd & Damian Wayne, Tim Drake & Jason Todd
Series: Lost Tales of Gotham [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1416067
Comments: 66
Kudos: 343





	1. Tim & Jason Bonding

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings will be at the beginning of every chapter.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anon Asked: can i have some jason and tim bonding?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No warnings apply.

“So, Tim, you know that you’re my absolute favorite brother even though Duke saved me breakfast this morning?”

Tim looked up from his laptop and found Jason standing in his door. He had expected the other to be leaning against the door frame, sporting a mischievous smirk, but instead the smile Jason was sporting looked strained and forced. There was nothing relaxed in his posture and Tim forced himself to sit still instead of rushing over to Jason’s side. Jason broke easily if he felt threatened and to him everyone perceiving him as weak and in need of help was a threat.

“I may be convinced if you brought me-“ Tim couldn’t even finish his sentence as Jason already fished a small box out of his backpack and closed the door behind him. He threw the box at Tim, who caught it carefully, and dragged his desk chair over to the bed Tim was sitting on.

“You came prepared,” Tim observed and opened the box with the floral print. Inside, he found a note, written quickly in the handwriting of Tim’s favorite person in Little Italy, the owner of a small patisserie with the best sweets.

“Yes, of course,” Jason retorted sharply, then winced. “Sorry.”

Tim put the first macaron in his mouth and suppressed a moan. Yeah, still the best. Steph was going to be so jealous he had gotten another batch and hadn’t shared it with her.

“So,” Tim said when he’d swallowed. “How can I be of service?”

Jason bit on his cheek and leaned back in the chair. He was already a head taller than Tim, he didn’t need to make himself seem even bigger. He was acting defensively.

“You’re kinda good with photos, right?”

Tim stared at Jason, then slowly turned his laptop so that Jason could see the editing program he was currently running.

“Yes,” Tim said drily. “I’m ‘kinda good’ with photos.”

“Okay, good, great. So you can make photos better? Their quality, I mean.”

“Sure.”

Jason mustered the screen of Tim’s laptop a little longer, not saying a word. Then he sighed and Tim wasn’t able to tell whether he did it because he was giving up or had assembled all his courage. Once more Jason reached for his backpack and took out another box. This one looked much older, dirty and used. He took off its lid and set it on the bed, pushing it over to Tim.

Tim glanced at Jason once, checking if it was alright, then peeked inside the box. To no surprise, he found photos. They were old and damaged, and the quality wasn’t anywhere near Tim’s standards, but Jason obviously cared about them.

“Can you also fix those?”

Tim took out one photo. It depicted a tired-looking woman, holding onto a toddler with messy black hair and bright blue eyes- oh.

Tim had seen a photo of Catherine Todd in Jason’s files, but this was completely different.

“Of course, I can,” Tim assured him. “I’ll get started right away.”

Jason let out the breath he’d been holding and deflated. “Thank you.”

“No problem. Do you want to stay?”

“If it’s no problem?”

“Not at all,” Tim replied and made space on his giant bed. “Get me my scanner from my desk and I’ll show you ‘kinda good with photos’. These will look as if they’d been taken by a professional in a studio.”

And they did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I'd love to hear what you think!


	2. Batkids bonding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anon Asked: helloo can u maybe write abt the batkids reconnecting and actually being brothers after bruce is dead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set after Bruce died while Dick is Batman.  
> No warnings.

“What are you doing here?”

Damian’s days followed a particular, new and annoying routine. In the morning, Pennyworth would take him to school. Then he’d spent the next few hours proving himself superior to the imbeciles he was supposed to call his classmates, only for Pennyworth to come and pick him up again. They would eat lunch, Damian finished his homework and then spent the next hours training until it was time for patrol with Grayson.

Today, someone had decided to interrupt his routine. Instead of Pennyworth, Cain and Todd were standing at the school gates. Damian didn’t need anyone to come pick him up. He had once traveled across half of Europe on his own at his grandfather’s demand. The fact that Father’s associates seemed to be unable to leave him alone proved aggravating.

“Nice to see you too, squirt,” Todd said. “Alfred can’t pick you up, so we came.”

Beside him, Cain nodded. According to Damian’s previous observations, Cain and Todd loathed each other. Cain was a strong defender of Father’s no-kill rule, which Todd obviously contested. Damian himself wasn’t all too fond of the rule _(“An enemy left alive will just stab you into the back later on. Do you know how that feels? I shall teach you.”)_ , but he respected her honoring Father’s legacy.

Damian aspired to make him proud as Cain had.

_(He’d forever keep trying, keep reaching, as he had nothing left but-)_

If Todd and Cain showed up here together, something serious must have happened.

“Shall I get my gear?” Damian asked as he followed the two to an old and ugly car parked two streets away from the school.

Good. It would be unpleasant if any of his classmates saw him get into such a vehicle. Damian didn’t care what they thought about him, but dealing with their ignorant comments about Damian’s heritage was annoying enough. He didn’t need them to get hang up on his wealth.

“I only have a few batarangs with me,” Damian elaborated. “Pennyworth disapproves of me being armed at school. Utterly ridiculous, only a fool would stay unarmed at any time.”

“You won’t need it,” Cain said.

Her voice was sharp, the kind that you didn’t ignore when she did speak up. Perhaps that was because she rarely said anything at all. She hadn’t been raised to speak, Damian knew that. Cain preferred body language to any spoken one.

“We’ll be going undercover then?”

“No.”

Todd drove them away from the school and through the city until they reached Old Gotham. He quickly turned away from the main roads into smaller ones and then ended up parking the car in a corner so dirty, the car looked right at home.

“C’mon, kiddo,” Todd said and got out of the car.

Surprisingly, Cain followed him. Damian couldn’t recall ever being in this part of town during the daytime, but he’d been here plenty of times during patrol. A lot of shady business took place on these streets. Instead of breaking into an apartment or tracking somebody, Cain and Todd entered a small café. It was rather empty and could use a new paint job. What were they doing here?

A petit old woman was standing behind the counter, setting a rather stunning fruit cake into the display. When she looked up and spotted the trio, she immediately smiled at them.

“Cassandra, my dear!” The woman said with a heavy French accent. “And Jason too! My, how big you’ve grown.”

Damian froze. As far as he was aware, Todd hadn’t seen the need to return from the dead yet. How did this woman know who he was?

“And you must be Damian,” the woman finally addressed him. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you. You look a lot like your mother.”

Damian wanted his mask and his sword. People in Gotham didn’t compare him to his mother. They loved to see every way in which he looked like his Father _(like a proper American, not like sand-eating trash)_ and only his enemies ever commented on his mother.

“Anybody else here yet, Claudette?” Todd asked.

The woman smiled softly. “Yes, Timothy is lying in your usual corner. He couldn’t catch any sleep on the flight here.”

Drake was here too? This was getting more and more ridiculous.

“What are we doing here?” Damian finally hissed.

“Tradition,” Cassandra replied as they made their way over to Drake.

And indeed, the other vigilante was lying half-asleep on the table, which Todd, of course, sought to remedy.

“Wakey, wakey, it’s cake time,” he said and pushed Drake.

“Jaysohn…” Drake groaned but lifted his head from the table. “I was sleeping.”

“So?”

“Well, some of us-“

“Sorry, we’re late!”

Damian turned to look at the entrance where three more familiar people stood.

“It’s all Dick’s fault,” Brown complained and sat down next to Cain. “Babs and me were already all dressed up and only Boy Wonder here had to finish-“

“What exactly is going on here?” Damian interrupted her icily.

He hated being kept in the dark. Secrets meant that you were weak and could be taken advantage of and Damian wouldn’t let anyone hurt him.

“I demand an explanation.”

Silence followed his statement as everyone around the table looked at one another.

“We come here every year,” Dick slowly spoke up. “It’s a tradition that started, I don’t even know when. I think it’s something Alfred and- Alfred and Bruce started. Never stopped, not even once. Claudette has been running this café for ages and Bruce would want you to get to eat one of her amazing cakes as well.”

 _Oh_.

Damian hadn’t known that his Father had any traditions. He should know this- No. His father should have taken him here himself, but he was _gone_ and Damian wouldn’t ever get to know him unless he let himself be dragged halfway across Gotham by his father’s strays.

“What cake do you recommend then?” Damian asked.

Grayson’s eyes twinkled mischievously. “Dark chocolate, obviously.”

“Oh, hell no,” Todd said. “Try the lemon bars one-“

“Actually, cherry is the best-“

“Don’t listen to them. Cheesecake-“

“Brave words for a man who looks like he’s falling over-“

“Cinnamon,” Cain whispered on Damian’s right. “Bruce liked cinnamon the most.”

He’d try cinnamon then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> Hope you enjoyed this!


	3. Bruce & the youngest Batkids

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anon asked: Maybe fluff with the younger bats, Steph harper duke dami ect?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No warnings.

Bruce Wayne was a man well into his forties. He was a successful businessman, a vigilante and a father. Somehow, out of all these terms, the last one was the one that caused him the most headaches.

“I am not sure the dough should be this sticky.”

Bruce turned to his right, where Duke was sitting on the kitchen counter, eating Nutella straight out of the glass with a huge spoon. If Alfred were here, he’d just glance at the glass once and Duke would drop it. Somehow, him doing the same in the kitchen never had that effect on them.

“Thank you for your input, Duke,” Bruce sighed and reached for the flour package.

“Oooh, that’s his grounded from patrol voice,” Steph said.

The blonde girl was sitting on the kitchen table – not at it, but on it – and typed away on her laptop. She was working on her college applications and Bruce hoped she wouldn’t actually include hints to her work as Spoiler in the text as she had threatened to do. Why was he going to proofread her paper again? Right, because he didn’t have enough paperwork to do already.

“No, no,” Harper spoke up from her spot on the ground of all things. “That’s the ‘Are those Batarangs in your backpack, Damian?’ voice.”

“That happened only once,” Damian muttered.

At least one of his children was sitting at the kitchen table properly, even if instead of eating at it, he was drawing and taking up half the table with his pencils.

“You mean you were caught only once.”

Bruce put the bread dough in the baking tin, his back turned to Damian in the universal gesture for ‘I’m not listening but actually I absolutely am’. Unfortunately, the thirteen-year-old didn’t use this chance to confess any rule-breaking so his siblings may not exploit it the next time they try to divert Bruce’s attention.

“I was not caught, Tim sold me out!” Damian exclaimed.

Beside Bruce, Duke used his spoon to point at Damian. “You told on him first.”

“He deserved it,” Harper chimed in again. “Who goes on patrol with a broken rib?”

Silence filled the kitchen. It wasn’t like any of them hadn’t been on the streets with dangerous injuries before. Gotham, as much as they loved her, wasn’t a kind mother. She bruised and hurt and didn’t give you time to recover.

“True,” Steph agreed. “Hey, how do you spell punctilious?”

Bruce put the bread in the oven and set a timer, then turned around to Steph.

“With only one ‘l’ – do I want to know what exactly you’re writing?” Bruce finally asked.

Steph glanced at her laptop, then looked back up at Bruce. “Probably not.”

“Do I still have to proofread it when it’s done?”

“Yes.”

Of course, what else had he expected?

“Why are all of you here in the kitchen at-“ Bruce glanced at his watch, “-four in the morning?”

The teenagers all looked at each other as if only now becoming aware of their state of dress or the time. In other families, conversations in PJs at this hour weren’t the norm. Bruce supposed he should be thankful that they didn’t do this every night at least.

“I have to hand this in tomorrow,” Steph said.

“Bored.”

“Hungry.”

“Nightmare.”

The regular then.

“Alright,” Bruce sighed. “The bread will be done in an hour. Everybody out of the kitchen and into the living room. If Alfred could see you now…”

The threat only hung in the air, but it was enough to send all of them to their feet and running out of the kitchen. Bruce trailed behind them, like always the silent and dark shadow guarding them in the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you had fun!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anon asked: Maybe someone like the league finding out bats has a dozen children?? Or just good dad bruce?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No warnings. Didn't get to a dozen.

Hal stared at the three vigilantes standing in front of him and wondered why he had agreed to go pick up Bats again. He should have been lazy, allow himself to doze a few more minutes up in the Watchtower, but no. Superman – who was ten times faster than Hal, so really, why was he going again? – had politely asked Hal to go check up on Batman, so here Hal was.

In Gotham.

Looking at three costumed kids carrying the same razor-sharp knives Batman was so fond of.

“Green Lantern,” the youngest greeted. He was rather short and the traffic light colored outfit would take some getting used to. “What do you want?”

“I want to speak to Batman – who are you?”

The boy frowned and despite his mask, Hal _knew_ he was glaring at him as if he had been insulted. Kid Number Two, a tall violet figure of undistinguishable gender, snorted.

“He’s the spawn of the devil,” they said and, with what must be practiced eased, evaded the elbow the boy had been trying to hit her with.

“Do not insult Father like this, Spoiler,” the kid hissed.

Something about that tone reminded Hal painfully of Batman. Behind his mask, Hal squinted, trying to see if he could spot a resemblance between the two vigilantes. They all carried Batman’s knives, his sign and they wore utility belts and obscured their faces and ran around in Gotham.

They had to be related, at least somewhat. Batman wouldn’t just let anybody run around in his city, he had _explicitly_ forbidden all Justice League members to do that, but the idea that he was working with children of all things…

Wait.

_Father?_

“Did you say Father?” Hal spluttered.

And finally Vigilante Number 3 involved himself in the conversation.

“You really are not all that fast, are you?” He asked.

His voice sounded metallic, must be the fault of the red helmet the man of undistinguishable age asked.

“Bat’s not in business today, so he sent Spoiler-“ The violet one, “-Robin-“ Traffic light kid, “and me to tell you to go have your meeting by yourselves. He’ll catch up on the situation later.”

“But-“

“Bye, bye, Lantern.”

Red Helmet turned around and jumped off the roof with Spoiler and Robin following suit quickly. Hal was sure that if he had taken his eyes off them even for a split second, they’d have disappeared just like Batman.

“Green Lantern, are you there?”

Defeated, Hal accepted the call. “I’m here, Superman.”

“Have you got Batman?”

Hal looked at Gotham, looming tall and terrifying. The three vigilantes from before were nowhere to be seen, but considering how they had reacted to him, he shouldn’t be surprised if they were watching him.

“Yeah, no,” Hal replied. “Did you know that Batman has kids?”

“Oh, yes. Were Nightwing and Batgirl there?”

Night- _who?_

“Dark hair, blue and black suit? Batgirl wears the same outfit as Batman, but she has red hair-”

Oh, for fuck’s sake – there were _more?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RIP to Hal Jordan lmao


	5. Demigod AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mayfriend Asked: Batfam as Demigods, pls pls pls (+if Jason’s a son of Nemesis, because UTRH?? All about restoring the balance and getting revenge)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing a PJO AU? More likely than you think

Jason had good days, he did. Some mornings he got up after dreamless sleep, had his favorite breakfast stocked and no monsters attacked him during the day time. Maybe he ran into one once the sun settled, but that was no major problem, but he didn’t witness any criminals that made his blood boil.

 _Child of vengeance_ , the Pit cooed _, child of justice, son of retribution and revenge, why won’t you please your mother?_

Unfortunately, Jason also had bad days.

Children of Nemesis didn’t have an easy fate. Most people only knew Nemesis as the goddess of revenge, karma if you want, but that term didn’t fit, could never explain everything Jason felt.

He wanted people to suffer twice as bad as he had and he wanted justice, and more than anybody else in Gotham’s merry little pantheon, did Jason understand the difference between the two. They weren’t the same, they weren’t compatible, but Nemesis was the patron of both and expected her children to do the same.

 _Kill them, make them choke on ash as you did_ , the Pit hissed at the back of Jason’s mind.

How was he supposed to act like a goddess when he was nothing more than the living remains of her son’s spirit? As Robin, Jason never had a problem figuring out the line.

 _This is justice_ , he’d tell Batman and the son of Athena would smile in approval when they put another criminal behind bars.

 _This was vengeance_ , Robin mourned at the grave of someone they’d been too late to safe.

Nowadays, the lines blurred too much.

Jason tried to avoid going on patrol on bad days, but he couldn’t always stay away from the city. One of the Rogues would break out of Arkham and there’d be an all-hands-on-deck kind of situation. Everybody would be in a hurry and Jason found himself-

slipping bit-

_by-_

_bit-_

“Red Hood collapsed, I’m bringing him in.”

Somebody was speaking to Jason, he could tell. He heard the other, but it didn’t make any sense. He was burning, crying out for a father that would never come-

“Jay, can you hear me? I need you to focus.”

Focus on what? His labored breathing, the way his lungs collapsed under the weight of the divine justice he inflicted upon himself?

Somebody took off his helmet and Jason wanted to scream, but he couldn’t. The gods had stolen his voice, so that he may never speak a hurtful word again, cut open his throat-

There were two hands on his temple and Jason looked into a pair of familiar brown eyes. Funnily, everybody had their godly parent’s eye-color with the exception of Duke. He had the Hermes’ cheekbones and wit, the same talent with maps and locks and paths, but he took very much after his mortal mother concerning his looks.

“Signal and Red Hood are signing out for tonight,” Duke said, then to Jason, “Time to go home.”

Tomorrow would be a better day. He’d wake up in his room at the manor and Alfred would have made his favorite breakfast. He’d get attacked by two monsters, and he wouldn’t go on patrol, but he’d deal.

 _You do not compromise, child of Nemesis. You deal in absolutes_ , the Pit screeched.

 _Not tonight,_ Jason whispered back. _Not tomorrow._

 _Not ever,_ if he could help it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I noticed that I get a lot of prompts for Jason, more than any other character. It's bc of my two Jason angst monster stories isn't it?


	6. Jason & Barbara Bonding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anon asked: I don't know if kidfic is something you're interested in, but if it is, please may I request Jason accidentally acquiring a kid? A kid from crime alley followed him home one day and refused to leave. Thank you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like HC Jason is the first to have kids.

“You know, this is kind of funny,” Barbara said, amusement coloring her voice.

Jason could practically see her sitting at her computers, grinning with barely contained glee.

“The others all thought Dick would be the first to end up with a kid.”

Jason rested his head on his dinner table. He, personally, had thought Barbara would be the first to end up with a kid. She was the closest to a mother-figure Cass had and with her organizing all of Gotham’s teams, it just seemed like she’d be the first to pick up and legally keep a kid.

But no.

It had to be Jason.

“I didn’t even pick the kid up,” Jason sighed. “He just followed me home.”

“He and Tim will get along well then.”

Jason winced at the thought of introducing little spitfire Kev to the rest of the family. He’d planned to put that off at least another two weeks. Or a month.

“Sure they will. Can you still do me a favor and look up what exactly happened to his parents? The way he describes, they were probably Scarecrow Vics, but-“

“Jay?”

The kitchen door slowly opened and Kevin, dressed in one of Jason’s shirt, stood there, rubbing his bloodshot eyes.

“Hey, buddy,” Jason said softly. “Bad dream?”

Kevin nodded and nervously pulled on his red shirt as he kept glancing at Jason, only to quickly avert his eyes again.

Jason, already used to their nightly routine, opened his arms and within a split second had an armful of a scared eight-year-old.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Jason asked.

Kevin shook his head and buried his face in Jason’s chest. The boy hadn’t been on the streets for long and thankfully had managed to stay away from the really gruesome stuff. It had taken Jason months to seek this kind of comfort with Bruce, but he’d also been older. He was glad that Kevin trusted him.

“Hey, Kev, do you want to meet the coolest person in the world?”

“Batman?”

Jason smiled and brushed his hand through Kevin’s hair. Like all children, Kevin adored Batman. Jason didn’t doubt that Bruce would love the child - his first grandchild wasn’t that terrifying? - right back, but Jason didn’t want to overwhelm Kevin with the _everything_ being a Wayne entailed.

“Way cooler,” Jason said. “Meet Oracle, the real mastermind behind our operations.”

“You may call me your Aunty Babs,” Barbara’s voice chimed from Jason’s phone. “I’ve known Jason since he was your age.”

Kevin’s eyes widened. “No way!”

“Plus, minus five years,” Jason muttered, not that it stopped Barbara from cheerfully telling Kevin all about Jason’s misadventures.

The boy eagerly soaked her stories up.

One family member down, a dozen more to go. That was if they managed to get through another week without any of them breaking down Jason’s door in worry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They make it 4 days before Damian breaks down the door.  
> Thanks for reading!


	7. Star Wars AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anon asked: Mandalorian!Bruce

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I liked writing this one! Might expand if anyone's interested.

The information broker sitting in front of Dick and Bruce mustered them in displeasure. Dick didn’t even need to see the man’s face, which was covered by a green veil, to know he was uneasy. One of his hands was out of sight, holding onto a blaster most likely. Dick resented this planet, this shady bar and the man they needed to talk to. He wanted to go _(to Master Haly, to the Brothers calling him ‘little Commander’, to the temple, home)_ back to their ship and sleep.

“A Jedi?” The man finally asked Bruce and leaned back in his chair, arms crossed.

Bruce’s hand on his back was the only reason Dick didn’t bolt and run away. Dick didn’t even look like a Jedi anymore, wearing more armor than he ever had and a mask that hid away half of his face. _Extra security_ , Bruce, whom Dick had never seen without his helmet, had said. The Mandalorian usually never left an opportunity to criticize Dick’s steadfast refusal to wear even more protective gear pass by. They had come to some sort of compromise when every attempt to give Dick more armor ended with Dick painting it in vivid colors. Not very Jedi like, but he’d gone with the colors of the beads that used to be part of his Padawan braid: red, yellow and green.

Dick would simply prefer to have his lightsabers, or at least one of them, in his hands. He didn’t like blasters and viroblades were only so effective. _(But Dick had lost his weapons, lost his life, running away from a battlefield of friends turned enemies.)_

But that was what they were here for, tracking down new kyber crystals for Dick to use and hopefully also rumors of other survivors of the purge.

“A child,” Bruce replied, his voice echoing in the metal. “Do not concern yourself with my affairs and tell me what I want to know.”

The sound had scared Dick the first time he’d heard the other speak. Nowadays, the dark and metallic echo reassured Dick that everything was alright.

“Do you have any idea how dangerous their _Padawans_ -“ The man spit the word like an insult. Dick curled his hands to fists and took a breath _. (There is no emotion, there is peace.)_ “-already are? Where’s your lightsaber, Jedi? How many have you killed?”

_(There is no death, there is the- screaming and crying and begging, blaster fire, Good soldier follow orders, Run! Run, Di-)_

Dick was pulled back into the present by Bruce slamming one of his hands on the table while he reached for the collar of the information broker with the other.

“I asked you something and I want answers,” Bruce hissed.

“Of- of, course!” The man stuttered and held up his hands. “I- there are rumors about a man from Krypton-“

“Krypton is gone.”

The planet had perished over two decades ago. A lot of Jedi had been there to help with the evacuations, but they’d been too late to help the isolationist planet. They had perished right alongside the Kryptonians. There weren’t any left.

“But there has been a survivor, allegedly. The Last Son of Krypton. The Empire’s been trying to find him, it’s all very much on the down-low, but he should be able to help you.”

“Coordinates.”

The man shook his head. “I- I don’t have any. But! I guess, starting somewhere near the remains of Krypton would be good?”

Bruce let go of the man so hastily, he fell to the ground.

“Let’s go,” he told Dick and turned around, marching out of the hideout, his black cape flaring behind him.

“My payment!” The man shouted but was quickly silenced by a blade soaring through the air, pinning his back against the wall.

Bruce hadn’t even needed to look to throw it with deadly accuracy. Moments like this ensured that Dick had a hard time believing Bruce wasn’t Force-sensitive, but the few times he had tried to broach the topic, Bruce had shut him down.

“So, Krypton it is?” Dick asked once they were out of earshot.

“Yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The idea behind this is that Dick, a basically just accepted Padawan, manages to survive Order 66 and gets picked up by Bruce. Then they try to find the slowly starting Rebellion and somebody to train Dick. They get sidetracked very often. Bruce picks up an ever-growing amount of children when all he first set out to do, way before Dick even, was find his parents' killer.  
> Thanks for reading!


	8. Tim & Bruce

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anon asked: hello can i get some soft Timmy boi if you are still doing the prompts. like i want my boy to be happy 😂😂

“Tim? Hey, kiddo, what are you still doing here?”

Tiredly, Tim rubbed his eyes and opened them to Bruce staring down at him with a fond look in his eyes. Tim pulled his blanket closer to himself, surprised at its weight and roughness. A closer inspection told him that it was no blanket at all, but a black cape, smelling like fire, ashes and sewer water.

It was disgusting, it was familiar.

“Bruce?”

Bruce smiled and gently took the cape from Tim. “Still looking at yesterday’s files?”

Tim nodded drowsily and stretched his arms above his head. He must have fallen asleep while reading through the cape files. He vaguely recalled picking up Batman’s cape because it had gotten colder in the Cave, which in hindsight had been a sure-fire sign that Tim was up way past his limits. He always got cold when his exhaustion finally overcame him. His back cracked while stretching. He really shouldn’t have napped in Bruce’s big chair. As comfortable as it was for sitting, it really wasn’t the best place to fall asleep in. He had lectured the other man about it often enough.

“Mhm, think I found a lead,” Tim muttered. He reached for the Bat-Computer’s keyboard and opened up his research notes. “There was another breaaahk-“ Tim had to interrupt himself to yawn. “Another break in two months ago.”

Bruce hummed in acknowledgment, but only glanced shortly at Tim’s compilation.

“Good job,” he praised Tim. “You can tell me what exactly you found later.”

“No,” Tim replied. Honestly, they had a job to do. Criminals to catch, lives to save, and all that. “I can do that now.”

“I know you can, sport.” Was it just Tim’s imagination, or did Bruce sound amused? “But this can wait, your sleep cannot.”

“I’m not sleepy,” Tim said and promptly yawned again. “Honest.”

“Of course, you’re not,” Bruce countered and in one fast swoop, picked Tim up and threw him over his shoulder.

“Hey!”

“You were supposed to be sleeping hours ago.”

“I was!”

“In a bed.”

“I don’t need a bed.”

“All thirteen-year-olds need a bed.”

“Lies, slander. Adult propaganda.”

“And a very serious threat Batman and Robin should investigate?”

Tim smiled and pushed himself back, so he wasn’t lying uncomfortably over Bruce’s shoulder anymore. He couldn’t recall the last time anyone had actually carried him when it wasn’t an emergency. It was certainly making him sleepy again and really, what was the harm about closing his eyes a little now?

“An incredible danger,” Tim reassured Bruce as they made their way over to the elevator. “Almost as crucial as Alfred’s no mask in the house rule.”

Tim couldn’t actually see the face Bruce was making, but he didn’t need to. He could hear it just fine.

“A terrible offense then, Robin.”

Bruce said something else, but Tim already had a hard time catching that. “Hmm, later,” he muttered. “Can’t concentrate.”

“Of course, sleep well, Tim.”

“G’night, Bruce.”


	9. Dick & Damian

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wrote this a while ago. Realized I never posted it here.

One of the first things Dick learned about Damian was that the boy didn’t know, expect or respect kindness from anyone. Dick doubted that Damian even expected it from family members. He wouldn’t be able to judge as he was hardly registered as a family member in Damian’s mine. The small circle of people Damian had labeled as being a part of his family consisted solely of Ra’s al Ghul, Talia and Bruce.

Dick was Bruce’s protégé and stand-in Batman until Damian would be old and skilled enough to inherit the title. A teacher and a mentor, but not family.

Therefore Dick had learnt to be more careful when he showed kindness. He couldn’t outright hug the younger boy or just treat him to a snack. Damian always expected it to be a trap, another exercise or blackmail. Everybody was constantly out to get him and he always had to give it his best.

It made Dick wish he had stayed more up to date with what happened to Talia after her falling out with Bruce. The kind woman he recalled from his early days at the manor didn’t resemble the mother who would have raised a child like Damian.

A child who slept with a knife beneath his pillow and only ever dared to actually sleep more than a couple hours after they installed more locks on the door and windows of his room.

So Dick didn’t ask “Do you want to go to the city with me?”, he said “I need to do some shopping.” and Damian would get dressed, checking if he should take any weapons with him and then taking some anyway, and wait for Dick to do the same.

Dick couldn’t ask Damian if he wanted to go to the zoo, he had to show Damian the files on the Penguin and his many donations to the Gotham zoo and tell him they needed to check for illegal activities.

The one time he got the kid to pick out some art utensils for himself, Dick had to imply that he only got them because the mission had gone well.

It was frustrating.

It was working.

Damian would never be a normal ten-year-old going on eleven. He didn’t understand why Dick had joked about Hogwarts letters or dared to relax completely even after Dick told him they were off duty.

But he was smiling now, sometimes. Mostly when he was by himself painting, reading or spending some time with his pets. He didn’t frown at the food anymore when Dick wordlessly set a plate down next to him and he wasn’t completely averse to touch anymore.

As long as Dick wasn’t obvious in his intentions, they were getting somewhere.

It had to be enough.


	10. Wally & Dick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More old tumblr stuff.

“So you’re an actual witch?” Wally asked.

When his uncle had said they’d travel to Gotham, Wally hadn’t been very enthusiastic. Everybody knew that Gotham was filled with dark and strange magic. Old gods with forgotten names still lingered in-between the dark alleys, around the street lamps, even though they should have passed away, and right across of them, necromancers dug through graveyards and demons shifted into human forms.

As far as magical cities went, Gotham had a terrible reputation. Wally hadn’t even known his uncle had a friend there, never mind one that was on the High Council, until they had stood in front of the gates of Wayne manor and Barry had pulled a surprised looking man into a hug.

“Not a witch,” Wally’s new friend said. “I’m a _familiar_.”

Dick Grayson was a strange kid, so he fit quite well into Gotham as far as Wally could tell. He looked pretty normal, much like a non-magical person really. The only thing that gave him away were his unnatural bright eyes.

“Bruce is the witch,” Dick continued and dropped from the chandelier he’d been hanging on, softly gliding down to the ground like the times before.

He had asked if Wally wanted to try as well, reassured him even that Dick could carry him to the ground no-problem, but Wally wasn’t so sure about that.

Yet.

It did look like a lot of fun.

“I thought all witches were girls.”

Dick shook his head and put his hands to the ground only to lift his feet in the air. He hadn’t stopped moving in any of the 67 minutes Wally now knew him. It made Wally grin. Usually, he was the only one constantly racing around, creating chaos and never sitting still.

“Nope, witches is neutral. Honestly, do we look like a wizard household?”

No, not really. Wayne manor screamed witch coven from miles away, Wally could tell that even without crafting a spell.

“Anyway, you’re an alchemist, right? That’s so cool. I’ve only met one or two alchemist and they’re all super, super old and boring!”

That was true. Alchemists were a bit like dragons, jealously hoarding their experiments and discoveries, which lead to a stagnation in their population. Not a lot of words about their work got out and so not many people got interested in the craft. Unless you were born into an alchemist family like Wally, chances were you only knew the basics about alchemy.

“Actually, I’m an alchemist apprentice. I can’t take the exam yet because I’m too young, but my uncle says I’m way better than any of the dudes who usually show up to take the exam.”

Dick’s eyes shined mischievously. “Care to show off a bit? Bruce said you guys can turn anything into gold.”

“Yeah, but that’s super boring and easy.” Wally opened his pants’ pockets and took out a piece of chalk. “I can do something way cooler.”

Looking back, it was really no surprise that all of Dick and Wally’s carefully scheduled meet-ups ensured that they couldn’t access the laboratory. But honestly, how were they supposed to know that Moonlark potion didn’t react well to the energy built up of alchemy?

It was their mentors’ own fault for leaving the two on their own.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr prompt: I see you have your asks open. I love me some BatFam... especially between Damian and the rest of the fam. Any fic type would be appreciated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like to mix my current obsessions.

“Where the fuck is Damian!?”

Just one morning Bruce would like to wake up without anybody shouting. It wasn’t particularly healthy for anyone involved and often enough screaming meant that somebody was angry and about to break something.

Hopefully not one of Alfred’s precious glass vases. It was always Bruce who got a lecture for it, even when he wasn’t in the country. It was all about his influence and parenting style, which honestly rude. If kids hadn’t learned how to not run and break vases despite vigilante training by the age of fifteen, Bruce couldn’t be blamed and had done his best.

He contemplated for a moment whether he should just turn around again and attempt to fall asleep, but he heard the second crash by then – and another shout.

“I’ve got cherries if you don’t want them-“

“Don’t you dare, Duke! I will disown you!”

“You can’t disown me.”

“I will certainly try. See how Bruce likes-“

Alright, that was it. Tiredly, Bruce dragged himself out of his bed for breakfast. He checked his timer and groaned when he realized he’d only gotten three hours of sleep. Ever since he’d been forced to reduce his patrols, he’d gotten used to getting at least five hours of sleep a day and he was starting to miss the couple hours more. He’d gone decades without a good night’s rest and now that he could have them, his children saw it fit to disrupt him.

“Touch that tree again and I will slice you up with my katana-“

Bruce dragged himself over to his door and opened it. He wasn’t quite sure what he expected when he looked onto the hallway, but it certainly wasn’t all his children, all of them, sitting on the ground, wrapped in blankets, still wearing PJs and staring intensely on the screen of the device they were holding. It took Bruce a couple seconds to notice it was a Nintendo Switch. He’d known Damian, Duke and Cass owned one each – birthday presents of the past year – but not the rest of them.

“What are you doing?” He asked, causing everyone to look up.

“Father!” Damian exclaimed, unusually bright and happy. “You’re awake!”

It still took effort for Damian to let down his guard entirely, indulge in all the best childhood had to offer, and it never failed to lighten Bruce’s mood when he could see his son just act like a child. Not Robin, not the heir of Ra’s al Ghul – just the child he always ought to be.

“And so are you,” Bruce replied.

Truly, the situation was almost ridiculous. Damian was lying across Duke and Cass’s laps while Cass had her head resting on Dick’s legs. Tim and Jason were sitting back to back, both comfortable in a sleeping back of their own.

“We’re playing Animal Crossing,” Damian explained.

Right, the new game was scheduled to come out tomorrow. Bruce frowned. Actually, given that it was past midnight, the correct answer would be _today_.

“All of you?”

“Yep,” Tim spoke up without looking up. “We had to organize who gets what fruit and with Jason being so picky about his map-“

“I just wanted a good base!”

“You can edit it all later, honestly- anyway, it took a while.”

“And why aren’t you in the living room then?”

Now all of his children turned to give Bruce their finest Alfred impression. It was in moments like this that Bruce could recognize why the rest of the League thought it was so unsettling when they all moved in sync.

“Nobody’s allowed downstairs when we’re supposed to be sleeping, remember?” Dick said.

That rule was rather new. Alfred had implemented it after Bruce had spent too many hours just working in the living room when he’d usually be on patrol.

“So you all decided to just start playing here on the floor?”

“Yes,” Damian said. “Do you want to see what villager I have on my island, Father?”

Considering how excited his children were about their new game, Bruce doubted he’d get any more sleep tonight.

“If there’s any space for me.”

Damian smiled and stood up, mindful not to dig his elbows into anyone’s legs, rushing over to where Bruce had settled down. Quickly, he climbed in his Father’s lap and made himself comfortable. “Okay so this is Drake and he’s a duck – I already pitched this new codename idea to Timothy…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also Bruce totally plays Animal Crossing. Unlike them, he was planning to start gaming in the morning at a reasonable hour.


	12. Talia & Ra's al Ghul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anon Asked: Some kind of interaction between Ra's Al Ghul and a child Talia Al Ghul? Idk I just think it'd be cool? ❤️

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for implied/referenced child abuse. I picture Talia to be about 10 here.

_Father is watching,_ Talia told herself over and over, again and again. _Father is watching, you can’t disappoint him. Father is watching, you can show how far you have come. Father is watching, don’t make him angry, don’t make him hurt you._

Talia never decided when Ra’s would spend time with her. He’d pay attention to her sporadically, following a rhythm she couldn’t pinpoint. Of course, Talia was always supposed to sit next to him during dinners, but whether he actually paid her any attention then or recognized that she was there, Talia was unable to tell.

She did know what to expect from him when he came to watch her train. All her stances had to be flawless then. She needed to defeat her opponents quickly and skillfully, no matter how much older than her they were. Ra’s al Ghul had no time for failures and Talia wouldn’t end like her older siblings. She’d be the child her Father always wanted, the heir he had dreamed of. She would please him and he would be proud of her.

Talia fought for nothing else.

She blocked another strike and used her opponent's weight against him to drag him to the ground. She pulled his arms on his back and put pressure on his neck with her right knee.

“Do you yield?” Talia asked.

Her teacher snarled and tried to get up, but Talia simply pushed him further down and left him to struggle until he gave up.

“Yes, my Lady,” he finally said and Talia stepped off him. She bowed gracefully to the man still lying on the ground, then repeated the motion in front of her father.

“Well done, my daughter,” Ra’s praised her.

Talia beamed. “Thank you, Father.”

“You have come far. Your teacher hardly provided a challenge for you.”

Talia wasn’t so sure about that. It had been difficult to defeat him and just two weeks ago he had damaged her ankle so badly that she still struggled with standing on it for a prolonged time.

“I give every fight my best,” Talia replied.

“I shall call for new instructors. This one has become obsolete. Follow me, daughter. I believe you will benefit from enjoying a cup of tea with me.”

Her father offered her his hand and Talia took it eagerly. All the injuries she had gotten during the fight seemed so very unimportant and minor to her now. She followed her father off the courtyard, ignoring the screams of terror of her former instructor that came to an abrupt end with his death.

“Tell me, what else have you studied this week?” Ra’s asked.

Talia began recounting her lessons, happy she could prove to her father that she was worth all the work he put into her. She would be great and make him proud. There was no other option for the daughter of the Demon’s Head.


	13. Dick & Bruce ft. Jason's son

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anon asked: I know you're mainly starwars these days, but if you feel like it could you please write Bruce getting emotional about being called grandpa since none of his kids ever really called him dad? I love your work, and i hope you and your loved ones are doing well ❤

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> same universe as chapter 6.

Kevin Chesterfield was an excited nine-year-old. It had been almost a year now since Jason adopted him and Bruce still couldn’t quite believe it. He was on the smaller side, which was not surprising considering his background, but he had put on a healthy weight again and was energetic enough for ten people.

“Uff.”

With a loud sigh, Dick dropped to the ground next to Bruce.

“I don’t remember having been this active as a kid.”

Bruce only snorted and folded his newspaper so he could look at Dick properly. “You were worse.”

Dick hadn’t just been nine, he’d been the world’s most accomplished acrobat as well. No surface had been safe from his antics, least of all the chandeliers or the pool. Kevin, by comparison, was a much more manageable child simply because he didn’t have the skill set to cause as much chaos as Dick had. Jason was of course working to remedy that. No child of their family should go untrained for long, even if they didn’t pursue the vigilante business. Bruce was glad Damian had chosen to step back and focus on his studies and hobbies instead.

“Now that’s just mean. How long is the kid staying?”

Kevin was currently busy chasing after Cass through the pool. She let him get close, within hairsbreadth reach, then moved away again.

“Until Jason’s back from Europe. He said it would take him another two days max.”

“So a week,” Dick concluded and smiled. “You two are going to be fine on your own.”

Bruce sent his son a dirty look. He wasn’t hopeless. Eight of his children had reached maturity, he did know how to raise them. And Alfred was here for everything else.

“Yes, and-“

“Grandpa!”

Bruce was interrupted by a loud shout. Kevin was hastily climbing out of the pool and running over to him.

“Grandpa, grandpa, did you see?” He asked excitedly and jumped up and down, getting water all over Bruce’s clothes. “I did a spin underwater! Did you see, did you see?”

Bruce opened his mouth to reply, but no word would come out. He was too stuck replaying Kevin’s words in his mind.

“Pretty sure he did not, Kev,” Dick said instead and stood up. “Why don’t you show grandpa how you did it?”

Kevin pulled Bruce out of his chair and towards the pool again. Then he jumped inside and performed his spins.

“Did you see?” He asked when he broke through the water’s surface again.

“Yes,” Bruce told his _grandson_. “Absolutely wonderful.”


	14. Jason & Dick Bonding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anon asked: If you're still taking prompts: Jason and Dick enjoying shopping together, just hanging out? Maybe in a different country?

“Okay so, when does the musical start again?” Dick asked as he followed Jason into yet another bookstore.

“Seven-thirty,” Jason’s reply came from… somewhere.

Dick could have sworn that his brother was just down the historical fiction aisle, but nope, Jason had already vanished. Jason pretty much toward above most people in the book store, yet he was nowhere to be seen. It was kind of hilarious to go out shopping with him. Jason was the kind of person who just took off when in a store, much like Dick actually. He was starting to see why Bruce had refused to go shopping with them and instead took Damian, Duke and Cass to the London Zoo. So far their spontaneous trip to London was going rather well. They had tracked down the arms dealer they’d been after on the second day – he really had been sloppy now that he was back in his own city – and so for the first time in years, first time ever actually they were on vacation, all together, like a family. It was a strange experience.

“Bruce said to be back at the hotel by six,” Jason suddenly spoke up from Dick’s left.

He was holding an entire stack of books that threatened to fall over any second.

“Want me to help you?” Dick asked, amused.

He couldn’t see Jason’s face from behind the stack, but he was getting the vague impression that his brother was glaring at him. Dick held up his hands. “Alright, alright, you go on your own then.”

Of course, not a single book dropped to the floor as Jason made his way over to the register. They has been trained to balance far more dangerous items in much more difficult surroundings. Jason paid for his new books with a credit card Dick was fairly sure belonged to Bruce and then began packing his new belongings into his back.

“Think we should get Alfred some typically British sweets?” Dick asked.

Jason halted and looked up at Dick, specifically the bag of sweets he was holding.

“What did we just spent thirty minutes in a candy store for?”

“Myself,” Dick replied and licked his fingers clean. “Had to test if they are good and they are, in fact, exceptional. So, sweets for Alfred?”

Jason sighed, pretending to be annoyed, and then stood up, his bag secured on his back.

“You’re paying.”

Dick smiled. “You mean Bruce is paying.”

After all, why should Dick spend his hard-earned money when their billionaire father was right there, likely already struggling to find a good souvenir for Alfred and eternally grateful when Dick and Jason would show up with the perfect gift?

Jason grinned. “This is why you’re my seventh favorite member of this family.”

“Seventh? Oh, you wound me, little brother.”

“I can demote you to eighth.”

“Already shutting up.”


	15. Batfam bonding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anon asked: Can we get some friendly competition batfam? Like them keeping score of how many badies they take down? Or some sick or injured batkids and Bruce going all batdad on them?

Tonight had been a good night. Nobody of the Rogues Gallery had been anywhere they weren’t supposed to be, the big crime families had been relatively silent and Duke and Damian had taken out a terrorist cell on their own. They got to burn a Nazi flag and hand all of them off to Detective Montoya. Pretty productive night all in all. The two of them rode back into the Cave on Duke’s bike and parked it right next to the batmobile. They were the last to check back in.

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen,” Steph said from where she was sitting on the hood of the car. She was already dressed in her PJs and holding onto a tablet. “Who took down the most badies tonight?”

“Two robberies,” Tim shouted from the changing room. He walked out still wearing the pants of his suit, but was otherwise drowning in a comfortable large Wayne Enterprises hoodie. “Four people in total, it was a slow night.”

Steph wrote down his count. “Jason?”

Jason was still entirely wearing his gear, he had only taken off his helmet. “A gang, none of them will go to prison, I set them up with proper work instead.”

Ever since Jason had decided to return from the dead, and inherit a large portion of Bruce’s wealth, he’d been trying out new methods of getting people off his streets. Crime Alley was still firmly Jason’s territory, and his to fund as well too. He’d taken Duke to visit the rebuilt theatre and community center and they’d spent an evening painting rooms, it had been wicked fun.

“Good,” Cassandra said from the chair in front of the computer. “Underground dog fight. Thirteen.”

Steph whistled and continued taking their count. Duke glanced at Damian, who was still sitting on his bike, busying himself with sharpening his knives. The teenager looked up and grinned victoriously. Thirteen only? Ha, they were still leading.

“Dick?” Steph called out next, but the moment passed.

Duke frowned and looked around, trying to spot the oldest. Dick wasn’t in Blüdhaven tonight, he should be back by now.

“Richard is sick, Stephanie, remember?” Damian spoke up.

He jumped off the bike, the batarangs packed away again, and walked over to the changing rooms, all while already getting out of his uniform.

“Right, I forget,” Steph replied and scribbled down on the tablet again. “Dick’s never sick though, it’s so weird. Should I put a ‘one’ down for Bruce? For Nightwing wrangling.”

Tim snorted like he wasn’t just as bad as Dick when he was sick. Duke had seen Tim insist he was fine and could go on patrol right after vomiting on Bruce’s cape. While it had been kinda funny, it had also been really gross and unhealthy. Duke got wanting to go out and fight even when he was compromised – the unofficial reason he got put on night duty again was that he had gone slightly overboard during daytime duty on his own. Even though he had totally had the situation under control. The explosion had hit nobody but him! – but Tim being unable to walk straight after having been stuck with the flu just too much. Dick had been similarly stubborn.

“Alright that leaves me with two dirty cops and two car thieves. Duke, what do you have?”

Duke smiled. “White supremacists, an entire cell, together with Damian.”

Cass spun around in the chair to frown at them. “More than me?”

“Yes!”

Steph nodded along. “That settles it then. Totaled up, this week’s winner is…”

Steph frowned at the screen, mouthing a word, likely a number, before groaning. “Oh c’mon! Bruce? Again!? He didn’t even go on patrol!”

Duke cursed under his breath. That was typical. He wasn’t even there to tell them their little competition was ridiculous but he still won?

“What’s he counting then?” Jason asked. “I was sure I was in the lead.”

“Justice League arrests.”

Saving the world should absolutely not be included in their contest. They should be changing the rules. Only arrests made in Gotham should count. Half of them were attending school here and couldn’t even leave the city.

“I veto that,” Duke announced.

“Seconded.”

“Thirded.”

“Four.”

“Five.”

“Hell yeah.”

Steph nodded along. “Motion passed.”


	16. Dark Batfam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> thewaynemanner asked: Could I get some Mafia! Batfam?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eeeeh, close enough. I just like the court of owls more.

In a better world, poor orphaned Bruce Wayne would become the ward of the family butler. Alfred Pennyworth, whose hands were stained with blood, but his heart filled with fierce protectiveness, would have ensured that this child, his son in all but blood, would grow up knowing he was loved. In this world, people remembered that Bruce Wayne was the sole heir of unimaginable wealth, so young and misguided still, and that no will, not even that of Gotham royalty, would be secure enough when the only person fighting for the boy’s custody was a poor British servant.

Bruce Wayne got adopted into the shadows. They did not raise him to be kind, they did not raise him to be compassionate. He was reminded of his station, his allegiance and that he was Gotham’s future. He was supposed to shape this city, eradicate all its filth and build a proper empire out of ashes and chemical burns. He was taught how to fight, of course, with smiles so sharp they cut as smoothly as his knives. They deprived him of childhood sweetness and gave him the bitter reality of adulthood where ensuring Joe Chill would die by his hands, if he so desired, was a possibility.

(And Bruce wanted revenge. He wanted someone to pay for his future and human lives have always been mankind’s greatest good. He watched his parents’ murderer bleed out beneath him and decided this was justice.)

In a kinder world, Bruce Wayne wouldn’t hurt even the worst of Earth’s scum to reach his goals, in this one he was taught to put himself above others. It should be no surprise that he followed through, yet his guardians were surprised when he decided that he was done listening, done learning from them. He would always be afraid of bats, but in this one he adored owls. Birds with sharp talons, terrifying monsters that lurked in the night, ready to destroy at hit behest.

He ordered executions and they followed through.

Gotham bled for a whole night. The screams of its brilliant high-society rang through the streets, the hallways of expensive buildings and the bedrooms of liars, cheats and thieves.

In another world, Bruce Wayne found one child and the others all dragged themselves into his life and decided that they would stay, no matter how much he’d protest.

In this world, Bruce Wayne searched for one child in particular and decided the rest of them could be worth just as much. Taking in little Tim Drake wasn’t done out of love, though he’d grow to adore the child with the same icy blue eyes as him. It was simply a matter of parentage. Tim’s parents were ruining their own company and they had made deals with the Owls of old. They needed to disappear, and so they did.

Dick Grayson, however, was the only child Bruce had really wanted. So young and yet so skilled already. It would be a shame to just hand him over to the Talons and tell them to make him one of their own. He would be great, Bruce wasn’t questioning that and he never would, but Dick could be better when he wouldn’t be made into a mindless machine. How to proceed when his adoption was sealed with a nice donation to certain lawyers, was quite simple. He took little grieving Dick Grayson back to the manor, settled him in the living room and picked tiny Tim Drake up from his nanny.

“I don’t want to replace your parents,” this Bruce Wayne, who had never known any parents but those that had bled out in an alley when the rest of the world was too busy, said. “But I believe the three of us can be a family just as well.”

It wouldn’t be enough to put Tim into his new brother’s arm, not for a long time, but it would ensure that Dick had someone he’d be protective of. Heroic traits, or so Bruce had learned, often made the greatest flaw and Dick Grayson, so very young and helpless, needed to be loyal.

So Bruce would raise him as such.


	17. Batfam bonding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fanfictionroxs asked: Maybe it's Alfred's birthday and Bruce is trying to bake a cake and his kids just watch the unfolding disaster while contributing to it as well.

The preparations for Alfred’s birthday started early in the morning. Duke had learned that when he had started getting dressed in the Cave as the others returned home, already blabbing about what gifts they’d give Alfred this years. Duke had decided to buy a couple flower seeds they could plant in the garden together. Buying things for Alfred was just too easy when the man could buy whatever he wanted given his paycheck. Gifting him an activity seemed like something more appropriate. Duke knew Damian had painted a huge family portrait for the entrance hall. Now that Jason was back from the dead, they finally could have everyone on the piece without any awkward explanations as to why a stranger was in the picture.

“Think Bruce is already up?” Jason asked as he dumped his helmet in his locker.

“Yeah,” Tim returned. “Heard him cursing about baking powder already. Steph is picking some up for him.”

Duke strapped his boots close, then walked over to the two. “What does Bruce need baking powder for?”

Tim looked at Duke in confusion before snapping with his finger. “Right, you weren’t there last year. Bruce always makes a cake for Alfred. He’s been trying to copy one of Alfred’s recipes since… I don’t even know. Dick?”

Their oldest brother stopped pulling his sweater over his head to contemplate. “Since before I arrived for sure. It’s always a disaster, but you get free fudge and frosting so only fools would complain. You shouldn’t miss it.”

Dick pointed at Duke’s half-assembled uniform. “Take a break today. Daytime’s done without you for like twenty years.”

Duke shouldn’t abandon his duty, but Dick’s argumentation was rather convincing. With a sigh, cheered on by Jason, Duke opened up all clasps and belts and hooks again and switched back into his PJs. He could pick up something more formal once they actually started celebrating and it wasn’t four in the morning. Together they walked up to the manor and the kitchen, which already looked like a battlefield. In the middle stood Bruce, wearing a bright orange apron that was the ugliest thing Duke had ever seen. From the way Damian was glaring at it, he agreed.

“So what’s today’s agenda?” Dick asked. “Do I get to make the batter?”

Bruce shot Dick a look that mirrored Damain’s precisely. There was no doubting the two of them were related for sure.

“You can crack the eggs, nothing more,” Bruce finally said.

Apparently had already expected it as he just hummed and took the eggs out of the fridge.

“I’ll lay the table,” Tim said, pulling Damian along.

Jason, meanwhile, had begun taking a variety of fruits out of the fridge and had started cutting them up. All roles seemed to be filled up. Duke felt a little useless.

“Can I help?” He asked.

Bruce studied him for a moment, then wordlessly threw Duke a knife. In another household, everybody would probably be screaming because of such actions. “Could you cut the chocolate?”

Moments like these make Duke glad he was a Wayne, even if it wasn’t in name. He caught the knife easily and began cutting the dark chocolate he was given after into small pieces. He got a little lost in the task so that when he looked up, Dick’s presence in the kitchen had been replaced by Steph and Cass. Cass was tasting the frosting Steph was making while the blonde girl was humming beneath her breath.

“What kind of cake are we even making?” Duke finally asked.

He was working on chocolate, Jason was now apparently cooking the fruits into some mush and the girls were making purple frosting while Bruce was still working on the batter, adding nuts now.

“No idea,” Jason replied. “It’s gonna be awesome though. It always is.”

Duke glanced at Bruce to see the older man was smiling softly, the way he did when he thought nobody was looking at him. Duke decided that if that was the result of this weird kitchen action already, he was going to enjoy it thoroughly.

“What’s next?” He asked with a smile as he handed Bruce the chocolate.


End file.
